


Circling a Safe Harbor

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Series: Reconcilliation (Reaper Jessica Moore) [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Dean Has Powers, Dean is Never Ever Ever Ever Cis, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Domme Jessica Moore, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fun With States of Consciousness, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Genderqueer Character, Jessica Moore has Powers, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Dean Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dean Winchester, POV Third Person, Polyamory, Pronoun Stuff In General, Psychic Abilities, Psychology, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Somehow Sam Might be Cis I Think, Sub Dean Winchester, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, The Author is Trans Deal With It, The Journey of Dean and Pronouns is hard to write down, There is Enough Cis Dean, Trans Character, Trans Dean Winchester, Transgender, Transgender Dean Winchester, nonbinary author, with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: Dean finally starts to feel the long-term effects of the telepathic bond he shares with Sam and Jess.





	1. Heartbeats

**Author's Note:**

> Because of structural and thematic things with this section of Reconcilliation/Reaper Jess 'verse, the chapters are going to come slower, I think. Also because life is still lifey and I only got writing time because there is a literal blizzard. ;) I am unsure on the length of Circling a Safe Harbor, but welcome to "Dean's Arc," which I was trying to release as all one thing but I don't work well that way.
> 
> Due to the topic, comments will be screened.
> 
> ETA: Well I got trolled for this after all, and I guess that was inevitable. It's funny when people reveal all the reasons they are transphobic by listing bad reasons why someone would write trans Dean, that are all transphobic reasons.
> 
> So I'll just say this: I'm writing trans Dean because I'm trans, and I will admit it didn't go in the direction I was expecting (in several ways), but I'm not writing trans Dean for someone else's transphobic reasons, I'm doing it because I'm trans and it helps me. Bring on the trolls.

The truth is that Dean knows Sam can feel Dean’s confusion and heartbreak as if everything is one stuttering heartbeat on loudspeaker. Dean stands at the mirror in the bathroom in the middle of the night, and when Sam wakes up Dean feels the knots of dread in Sam’s stomach from what can be felt through the bond before Sam even moves a muscle.

He feels Jess stir next. Half-dreaming and _What, Sam?_ and Sam considering what to do.

Dean wants to scream.

All of it happens in seconds, although they stretch on and on for Dean and then Sam is knocking very-not-subtly on the bathroom door.

Dean is not okay. Not even a little bit holding it together. They both know it.

_You're hurting._

Dean sighs, letting exasperation at the slight guilt trip implied by Sam’s word out and down the bond. 

“Yeah, Sam,” Dean says out loud, gruff, too gruff. Admitting it without giving an inch.

“Dean…” 

“Sam. Not right now. Give me a minute.”

Sam sighs audibly and then retreats. Dean hears him get into the bed beside Jess.

Dean stays in the bathroom.Staring at the reflection in the mirror. And then looking down at the sink. And back up at the mirror. Not wanting to, but doing it anyway.

Fresh waves of emotional pain flow through Dean, harsh enough that they move all through Dean’s body.What should be there in the mirror isn’t there. Nothing looks right. Dean tries to find everything that doesn’t show through, doesn’t let itself out to be seen. It’s very unclear what to do now. It hurts like nothing Dean’s ever felt before.

*~*~

*It’s a pain that doesn’t even make sense. Dean has been fine all this time. This life thing has been going on for so long and never once has there been a reason to think thoughts like this--

What does any of it even mean?

Never a dull moment. Dean blows out a breath, feeling horrible, scared, confused. Curling up in Sam’s arms would--help, somehow that at least is clear. Dean backs away from the mirror finally. Being back in the bed brings sudden, if partial relief. They’ve been waiting for Dean to return and rest. They’ve made a space between them, and Dean takes it, grateful but a little embarrassed, if not outright ashamed. Sam reaches for Dean, creating a safe haven in his arms just like Dean needs Jess curls against Dean’s back. The tension starts to ease out of Dean, and then Sam and Jess. Maybe now they can sleep again. Dean lets go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to repaste this, or at least I did repaste it, and it got messed up in the repaste, sorry all, fixed now.


	2. Steadiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snowpocalypse, Day 2

It’s hard, incredibly hard to pull away from Sam in the morning. Maybe...Maybe Sam can fill in all the missing pieces Dean’s found lately, that it seems weren’t there before but are now. Maybe….

Things could go back to normal, although… why Dean even thinks in terms of normal anymore isn’t exactly clear.

Sam says, “So it isn’t me?” as Dean cuddles closer.

“No. It hasn’t ever been you, Sammy. Not like that.”

Sam nods and kisses Dean gently on the top of the head. Tension eases out of Sam as they make contact. “Okay. Thank you, Dean. Last night kinda scared me.”

“You and me both,” Dean says, tired and unsure if there’s anything else to say at all.

Jess crosses the room to Dean’s side of the bed and gently runs a hand over both of them, sending them shivering a little. “Love you two,” she says, and her eyes shine with that light they’ve always had since she came home to them, the light that she always says means she can still remember more than she maybe ought to.

Sam leans in toward her for a more thorough kiss and he and Jess exchange a quiet look, the one that says they’re lost in memories of a time before Dean was there in this particular way, memories that keep them centered and together. Jess takes Sam’s hand for a few beats, then lets go. “Love you both,” she says. Firm and certain.

She and Sam watch Dean, concerned but not exactly worried. There’s no hurrying Dean Winchester. Dean says things exactly when Dean means to say them, and not a moment before then.

Sam runs a hand through Dean’s hair and lets out a soft breath. “Still gotcha,” he says, “We’ve gotcha.”

“Sammy. I don’t even have me anymore,” Dean says.

“You do. Or you will. But that’s what we’re here for.” Sam sounds as serious as he’s ever been in his life.

“How do I…?”

“One day at a time, Dean.”

“Sammy, don’t leave.” Anxiety flutters in Dean’s stomach. It hasn’t been that long since Sam’s trip, but this is an older, deeper pain with layers on top of it, one that’s there despite all the ways Dean intellectually knows there’s no need to ask this.

“Not going anywhere.”

And once again Dean realizes this is the real Sam, the self-assured Sam, the one who taught them so much of what he knows about how the bond works. Sam who knows just when to turn the mind meld up and down, or weave his thoughts in with the group, and when to let Dean have space. Sam who knows what he’s doing. And Sam who is present.

Dean wants to laugh, a bit from relief. Instead Dean just says, “You’re home. And I’m falling apart.”

“Last night was scary,” Sam admits. “Bottom dropped out.”

“Yeah. It did.”

“But it’s not me, it’s not….”

“Sammy, no.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know what it is.”

“So we’ll figure it out,” Sam says.

“Boys?” Jess asks, and Sam nods, unruffling the blankets so she can sit on this side of the bed with them.

“No pressure,” she whispers. “Just tell us when you can, Dean. When you can.”

And it doesn’t surprise anyone that it’s when Dean lets go of Sam and lays back in her lap that a few tears squeeze out of Dean’s eyes. Dean holds on to her for dear life, and the fear from last night starts to bubble up again. She strokes through Dean’s hair, letting the emotions run their course as she whispers again, “Right here, right here.” Gentle and soft, but certain, and steady as the tide, just as Jess has always been for Dean.


	3. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with the bond, these things are hard to convey. Especially for Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're finding these chapters hard to read, it's because Dean has, and I am, upping the pronoun game. Sometimes it's easier to feel like you have no pronoun. The remaining "he" in this whole scenario is Sam. (I also went back and just...made this a little bit more that way, cleaning up any times I'd slipped myself. Thankfully the Winchesters let me do some interesting things when writing with them.

The ache for contact with the triad stays with Dean, but it’s unclear what to do, how to be. Dean moves listlessly around the house for days, maybe longer, like something’s missing, something to be looked for. But it can’t be found, that much is very clear. Dean’s in the kitchen when Sam comes up behind Dean--a static touch through the bond before the physical one--and Dean stays stiff in his arms.

“What is it?” Sam asks. 

Dean doesn’t know how to answer, but at least lets Sam hold on gently, and maybe that’s enough.

Sam rocks back a little on his heels, reminding Dean of days leaning back, leaning back into the bond and that’s what Dean craves. Craves the circuit and Dean knows how easy it would be to give Sam everything, even now, and oh… 

Dean does lean back, and then there’s nothing but the feeling of how much Sam--how much they both-- want this, how they want to be close, just be together and it’s beautiful, it’s everything, and Dean just wants to let go again, but--

Dean can’t. All that’s there for Dean now is an uncomfortable floating feeling, lost, lost, lost. Unsure where the beginnings and the endings are of anything at all.

“Sam--” Dean’s stomach churns. “I want--everything but I--”

“Dean, I just… I don’t want to… hurt you. Please know that. I need to understand so I don’t….. Is it too-- Can you show me?”

Dean nods. “Yes.” No hesitation when Sam asks for something directly. Not at first, anyway. “I mean, if that would work. It hurts though.”

Sam nods, slightly guilty or embarrassed. “Hey. I know it does. But I’ll be there. Like you were there. Let’s…”

“I don’t want to hurt you with this, Sammy. I don’t want you to have to feel this. Not ever.”

“Dean. Come on. I want to know. And you know…”

“You’d feel it if you could dig,” Dean says, nodding. “I know you don’t do that, not anymore, I know we learned not to do that.”

“I won’t know unless you want me to,” Sam agrees.

“The other night…”

“The pain was too much, Dean. That’s all. You didn’t hurt us, not really. It was you that was hurting. But it was too much. So I want to know what it is. Will you show me, please?”

Dean is going to show Sam. But not just him. “Jess is in the shower, we should…”

“Of course.”

Sam is still longing for Dean--maybe Sam always did. Maybe that’s what distance does to them, or closeness, but whatever it is, it’s done, and Dean knows part of Sam asking is because Sam wants to just fix this so damn much, run the circuit properly, and let them just all be--be.

Be Winchesters. Be their triad.

“Sammy...are you sure you want to feel this now? I could...try to…” 

“Let me, Dean. Let me take some of it, if I can. Okay?”

“I don’t know if I can, Sam. I…”

Dean starts to almost vibrate with tension and then finally leans back to ease it as Dean’s feelings slip down the bond. They’re not ones that Dean wants to hide, not now. 

Sam murmurs an answer. “I know. I love you too. That’s why…. Please let me help.”

Dean sighs. It’s clear Sam wants to be more forceful about this. To really get Dean to see the need to do this. Fear is suddenly almost Dean’s entire world, but a tiny voice says… _let him. Let him do what he’s asking to do for you._

“With Jess. Okay?” Dean asks.

“Of course. You know she’d never have it another way.”

And that is true. That was one of the most true things in the universe of their lives.

Oh, how Dean needed her standing near right then, as keenly as in the first days.

 _Dean. I hear you. I do_ , she calls. The water turns off in the bathroom.. _Be right there._

And then she is, dressed in her robe, all light and gentleness even now, and she reaches her hand for his.

“We can wait a second…. You…”

“Dean. Let go, baby.”

And it’s Jess. Simple as that. So Dean does.

They support Dean on either side, both physically holding on, and showing themselves in the headspace in the same formation..

They are swimming, swimming in the sea of the triad, of the circuit. They feel...three minds melding, resting in the certainty of their bond, but they feel Dean’s panic, and just loss, loss, loss, fear, the way nothing makes sense.

Jess and Sam watch as the events of that night unfold, Dean staring into the mirror and just--not--knowing.

Just not knowing. And looking, with a heart full of pain, looking for something that reflects back what Dean feels.

“Floating,” Sam says softly. “Like...like when I couldn’t… With time. It’s very floaty.”

“Is it?” Dean asks, confused and honestly a little shocked.

“Yeah. It sort of is, Dean. Not knowing. Not knowing where--”

“Who. Not knowing who,” Dean interjects. “I’m lost, Sammy. Am I lost?”

“You’re still here with us, Dean. Right?”

“But I’m not me.”

“You are you,” Jess murmurs. “You’re going to be exactly who you are, exactly who you need to be. You’ve always been and you will again.”

And Dean melts against them, soaking it up, taking a moment to be--with them--just be.

And then the panic sets in again.

“No. No. Please. I’m not--”

He swims to the surface and away, standing firm between them but alone, closed in a separate world of pain.

“What the hell--is going on--I’m nowhere,” Dean says.

 

Sam and Jess pull out of the memories slowly, understanding and yet not feeling them as keenly as Dean does.

“You’re here,” Sam says softly, “With us. Remember how many times you’ve said that to me, Dean?”

“But, Sammy, is it true?”

Dean knows they’ve felt the barest edges of what this feeling is. But no answer comes from either of them, a silence that’s just the barest bit too long.

Dean blows out a breath in frustration, then leaves the room, slipping away and shutting the door of the small bedroom quietly. There is no overt display of anger, but there are no invitations, either.

It’s time for Dean to be alone for a while.


	4. Resting and Regrouping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't that Dean is angry.

It isn’t that Dean’s angry at them, exactly. It’s just that it feels like the difficulty level on everything is just...more. 

Dean sits in there alone and turns the TV to a random channel. The door on Dean’s third of the bond swings shut, a proverbial do not disturb sign swinging on the doorknob. Within minutes, Dean sleeps.

It’s not possible to just stay away forever, though. After some sleep, Dean reemerges. Sam is cooking, something he usually does when a little lost for other tasks to do, and Jess is reading on the couch in the main room. She looks up and watches Dean on a path through the little house.

No one pushes on the Do Not Disturb, proverbial or not. 

It’s so quiet.

Dean coughs. “I uh…”

In the kitchen, Sam stills.

“Thank you,” Dean says. “For….”

Jess nods. “Hey,” she whispers. “Go talk to Sam?”

Dean doesn’t have to be told twice.

“Sammy.”

This time, Sam is nervous, shifting his weight a little awkwardly.

“Dean, I...I didn’t mean to intrude, when I…”

“You didn’t.”

“Bad call?”

“No, Sammy. Thank you. I just...I don’t know what it is, and I…”

“And we make it worse,” Sam says. “I make it worse.”

“No, Sam. Hey, Sam. Just…”

“What?”

“Just let me decide...what the hell...I mean…”

Sam nods. “Bad boundaries,” he says.

Dean laughs, rough and full of honest pain. “We’re Winchesters. Of course we… Sam. Stop.”

“I just didn’t mean to hurt you...when I… I thought it would help. And I…”

“And?”

“I miss you, Dean.”

“Miss you too, Sammy. Let’s just. Hey.”

Dean joins him in front of the food and takes his hand, squeezing it. “I’m still here. Let’s just...figure it out. One thing at a time, right?”

“Yeah, Dean. Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Was it like this? With me?”

“Sometimes,” Dean says, and Sam nods, shrinking back noticably. “Hey, Sam. We got through it, right? We found the answer.”

“Yeah,” Sam whispers. Then a little more forceful: “So I can help you find yours. Right?”

“Yes, Sammy. Sure. Let’s just...take it slow.”

“Yeah. Okay. You got it, Dean. Dean… I…”

“Sammy. We’re okay.” Dean squeezes his hand again.

“Love you,” Sam whispers.

“I love you too, Sasquatch. I love you, too.”

Dean gets an arm around Sam and squeezes, tighter and grounding. “Gotcha, Sam. I’m still me.”

“Yeah. You are. You are, Dean.”


	5. The More Things Change the More They Stay the Same (Fireworks)

The panic resurfaces at somewhat random intervals after that. Jess or Sam can offer Dean a grounding touch, but it doesn’t do a lot for the internal panic in the end. Yes, Dean is Dean, but the adrenaline spikes come fast and thick, enough to leave disorientation as a nearly permanent fixture in Dean’s mind.

One fix is enforcing the necessity of a do not disturb. But--

Every time, there’s more and more space between them.

Dean can feel that Sam’s anxious, feels it spilling over into more and more gifts of impromptu food. And Sam’s never really been the cook, but now he’s learning Dean’s favorites. Asking with his eyes--just please.

That Sam misses Dean is evident in everything he does.

The logical thing Dean could do to attempt to feel like things were the way they used to be would be to spend time with Sam, and Dean tries.

And for Dean, his “good ol’ college tries,” are good, good enough that they’ve always kept the two of them afloat so far.

Now it’s the same, but Dean’s feeling far away from their life, confused, and uncertain if anything really penetrates the fog of it all.

Dean craves the electricity of the bond, but it also knocks them further into some level of far away floatiness that makes the distance worse.

The three of them walk around with nerves a bit jangled, unsure how to proceed.

Still, it’s Sam who has the clearest picture what’s going on.

“You decide, Dean,” he whispers.

“Enthusiastic consent,” Dean says out loud, surprising both of them.

“Yeah. Of course,” Sam says. “And--”

“Yeah?”

“And it’s all right if you never want--”

“Sam--”

“I thought it would help, I…”

“You didn’t do anything. You didn’t do anything wrong. I told you that much, Sammy. But I’ll keep sayin’ it.”

At the end of a day of the disconnected feeling, or insomnia that keeps Dean up constantly, they help Dean settle between them and hold him when the exhausted tears come.

“Dean,” Sam whispers, “Let it be my turn.” And Dean doesn’t have a choice. But neither of them would have it any other way.

*~*~*

“It’s just…” Dean starts.

“Rest, Dean,” they say. “We can feel it. We feel it.”

“What do I do?”

“When you know, you’ll know.”

*~*~*

“Sammy?”

“Mm, Dean?”

“How did you know what to do?”

Sam laughs softly. “It’s gonna sound really basic, but Dean, I just…”

“What did you do?”

“You were there,” Sam murmurs. “Jess was there. We’re here, Dean. Sorry. I know that’s… but it’s true. And I just… I… I kept asking myself. Until I found it.”

“If you don’t know who you are, how do you even…”

“But you’re still--”

Dean swallows and breathes in. “Right. I’m still… I’m still Dean. And I’m…”

“Whoever you need to be. You’ve always been whoever you’ve needed to be, Dean. And you still are. But it’s okay to rest.”

Dean nods. “Sammy. I’m still glad you made it home. That time. I’m still glad… I’m still glad.”

“Dean, don’t ever let me--if you don’t want--”

“No. I do. I do. I still do.”

“You do?”

“Always.”

Sam blinks at him, eyes big. “Dean…”

“Not everything’s different, Sammy. Will you…?”

Sam doesn’t have to be asked twice.


	6. No Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gender, so much gender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: Light Sam/Dean, Light Domme/Sub (Jess/Dean BDSM/Kink. That's how their deal is working and so...IT'S BACK.).
> 
> I'm not convinced people should try all of this at home. (Meaning gender confessionals in subspace, I don't know.) lol. I kept it light.

Sam’s kiss is grounding. It settles Dean inside the circuit just like the first time. Dean settles back a bit, but doesn’t pull away. “Jesus.”

“Fireworks?”

“Always. I…”

“C’mon. I know that look. You need Jess too. Maybe you need her more.”

Dean flushes and looks away from Sam, as much an affirmation as anything..

“Dean, there’s never anything you could tell me that would make me… make you not my brother--I mean--I mean, um, if you want…”

Dean does pull back again then.

“My family. Sibling. Okay? There’s nothing that would be too much for me. But it’s also your business, and I know that. Thank you for sharing what you did.”

“Welcome, Sam,” Dean says in that gruff, trying-too-hard tone they both know so well now.

It’s clear Sam wants to ask more questions, but he’s not going to push.

“Hey. Tonight you wanna...go grab a beer or something?”

“Not really, Sam. You wanna bring some home?”

“Yeah, I could do that. I just thought… Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Tired, Sam.”

“I know.” He does, but he doesn’t. “Hey, let’s get Jess for you, Dean.”

Jess ducks her head around the corner. “Did somebody call me?”

Sam smiles. And then Dean does, for the first time since all of this began.

Jess leads Dean behind closed doors before they say another word, taking Dean by the hand in fact as if they’re exploring the house for the first time. They barely make a sound, and Dean thinks...at least it doesn’t surprise Sam how quiet they are, even now, all this time later, just the way that it began.

*~*~*

Behind the bedroom door, Jess kisses Dean too, and the release is just as powerful. The lightest touch from her has always been enough. She grips Dean’s wrist in exactly the right spot and lets Dean go loose.

“Does it scare you?” she whispers, “Or is it safe?”

Dean’s answer comes, quiet and without many words, in the way their conversations are when they’re alone and Dean’s let vulnerability in. “Scares me but… Safe with you,” Dean murmurs.

“All right. Good. That’s so good. I’m here.”

“Jess...I-don’t-think-I’m-a-man.”

“Okay, baby. It’s all right. I felt it. It doesn’t scare me.”

Dean nods. “I don’t know what it means. I’ve… I’ve never not been a brother before.”

Jess joins Dean lying down. “Yeah. I don’t know what that’s like.”

“It’s like...no walls.”

“Oh. I do, then, a little. Well, you’re being really…. You’re really good, Dean. It’ll be okay.”

“It will?”

“Yeah. We’ve got you. Both of us.”

“Oh.” All the fight goes out of Dean, like reaching the end of a script or a plan and completely failing to have anything left. “Okay, Jess.” The words come out in a small voice, almost far away.

“You’re doing so good,” Jess says. “So good.”

“Okay.” Dean pauses. “You’re not mad? Are you mad?”

“No. Sweetheart, no.”

“Okay.” Dean’s eyes close, and they stay that way.

“Rest now, Dean. We can talk more when we need to. Right now though…”

“Just need to be safe. Please.”

“That’s right, baby,” she whispers.

And as Dean floats, sleep drifts in, and Jess watches, protective.

More hard conversation will happen later, and she’s not exactly sure how well any of that went, but she holds the space for what feels needed and she knows to wait


	7. On the Same Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is ready to get everyone on the same page.

When Dean emerges from sleep, they hold hands again and go out into the main part of the house. Sam is still there, sitting on the couch, not exactly waiting but seeming aware that something would be coming. 

Dean squeezes Jess’ hand so tight and mumbles the revelation of earlier.

“Sorry, Dean, what?” Sam asks.

Dean is flushed and watching the carpet.

“Hey. Dean. Look up,” Sam says, quiet.

Dean tries to, and when it happens Sam catches Dean’s eyes with his own and tries to hold his gaze there as much as Dean will let him.

“Sammy...I’m...my...self is…”

Sam waits.

“I’m not a dude anymore. I think. Because… Because….” Dean shrugs, awkward and maybe the tiniest bit _help_ and _help me out here oh god oh god_.

“Because your gender is floating? Nebulous?”

“Nebulous? You mean like--”

“No edges, weird boundaries, no boundaries….” Sam says.

“No walls,” Dean says.

Sam looks Dean in the eye steadily and slowly nods. “Yeah, Dean.”

“And this is not your fault, Sam,” Dean says. “I don’t know what to do but--it’s not your fault.”

“Dean. It’s not your fault either,” Sam says, steady, like he believes it totally. “It’s nobody’s fault. It’s…just happening.”

“Sammy...will you...oh, Jesus.”

Sam crosses the room. Closer. Closer. “I’m here,” he murmurs, “And we’ll deal with it, Dean. We’ll get you feeling better. Okay?”

“Don’t let go.”

“Nobody is going to abandon you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And then there are tears, and Jess and Sam lead Dean back to the couch and curl up on either side.

“We’re right here,” Jess says. “We felt it, Dean.”

“I know--I know--it’s just...I don’t…” Dean’s hands are clenching and unclenching. “I don’t want the same things, I don’t feel the same. It’s good, it’s amazing, it’s no walls, but it’s...not…”

“It is what it is, Dean,” Sam says, “We are where we are.”

“Well it’s not the--old--it’s not...the me I recognize,” Dean tries again.

“Okay. And we’ll get through it. Dean, we’ll help you.”

“Will you…? Are you….?” A flood of emotion runs down the bond. Dean knows they’ve said they won’t but-- _Please don’t abandon me._

 

 _That isn’t happening, Dean. Not ever_ , Sam sends back.

 _I just got you home_ , Dean says, _And I don’t want you to think I don’t--_

_I just got home to you. And I don’t._

The irony, sometimes, is how much more Dean can say mind to mind than he’d force out in words.

“Can I…?” Sam asks, and Dean nods, a little jerkily, and Sam leans in and just gently kisses Dean on the cheek. “I’m right here,” he says.

Tears flood out of Dean then, and he leans in, his face already a mess. “Don’t go.”

“Not going anywhere.”

“Sam, I’ve been… I’ve…”

“Everything goes at your pace, Dean.”

Dean laughs, amusement and bitterness mingling in the sound. “Slow, isn’t it?”

Jess shakes her head a little and murmurs, “No.”

Sam says, “Not really. When did you start feeling like this?”

“I don’t know, when we made the circuit, I... “ More laughter, slightly hyper now, “Sammy, I had this idea I would just never leave it ever again so I wouldn’t have to… And we don’t, really, do we?”

Sam smiles. “I thought that, too. God, Dean. We waited a long time.”

“I need you...too, you know. That isn’t...just out of nowhere. But it’s just…”

“Hm, Dean?”

“Well, do you want...someone like me? What if I change? What if I’ve already changed? Will you...will you want me?”

“Always wanted you, Dean. Will always want you. Wanted you to come and get me from Stanford, wanted to… I’d give you everything.”

It’s not the first time that Sam has echoed Dean’s words back and sentiments. Not by a long shot, not bonded as they are. But… Dean searches Sam’s gaze...and finds nothing but true, earnest Sam there.

Dean swallows hard. Thinks of a dozen snappy comebacks and uses none of them. 

“You two,” Jess says, smiling. Jess asks with her eyes and then leans in and kisses Dean on the other cheek. “I’ll be around. You have your moment.”

Dean nods, watching her go with the same longing that’s been there since it first surfaced. Then a sigh escapes and Dean turns back to Sam. There’s something else that needs to be made clear.

“Sammy….I need...it’s not ever about...needing you less….Do you know that? It was never about that. Please, I...”

“Not less, no, but other people, Dean, sometimes…”

“But you. Please. We’ve waited again and I need…. I need you too, Sam.”

And it’s Dean who leads Sam away, nerves jangling and body ungainly and feeling extra bow-legged. 

When they’re alone together, behind a closed door, that’s when Dean finally falls apart.

*~*~*

First comes the flurry of kisses, bodies pressing together and hands everywhere and Dean holding onto Sam for dear life.

Dean holding onto Sam for dear life.

And 

_Don’t let me go don’t let me go don’t let me go I won’t change that much please don’t._

Sam answers, _Never will, never will, never will_ and it’s not that Dean doesn’t trust it, it’s that it’s impossible to take in fully, even after everything else.

_I didn’t mean for this._

And Dean didn’t.

_I didn’t--everything else--not…_

_It’s not the kind of thing you do on purpose._ Sam replies.

Dean is crying silently, soft at first and then harder. _I’m sorry. I’m changing. I’m scared. Don’t go._

Sam takes Dean more firmly in his arms. _Staying._

But the fear and panic only redouble, Dean can’t take these things in right now. There’s an ache that he knows Sam can feel pulsing through Dean’s body and it’s of dread and panic. “Sammy, I can’t. Please…”

Sam puts a hand to Dean’s cheek and whispers, “Right here. Love you. I won’t leave. We’ll be here. Together.”

Dean’s breathing slows. “Always. Sammy. I’ve never loved you more.”

“I love you too. Listen. Let’s not… Enthusiastic consent, remember? There’s no reason to force this.”

“But we--”

“Let’s get…”

“I gotta settle my….where the walls are,” Dean whispers. “Don’t I.”

“Let’s get you feeling better, yes. Settled, Dean. Right?”

“Yes. Yes, Sam, but I want…”

Sam leans in close, and Dean does too, and then they’re kissing, a deep, salt-water-laced kiss. And then Sam is kissing away the tears that are there and whispers, “Me too,” and “We will,” and Dean’s certain they will, absolutely certain, they’ll be stable and them and the triad will be perfect, one day.


	8. Pronouns

Dean is breathing easier, deeper, fuller breaths. Standing in the kitchen and surveying all they have been able to build together and realizing they are still building. The family knows now, and no one is running. Dean has the benefit of watching what happened to Sam, and so it’s easier in one way to realize something like that doesn’t--strictly--have to happen again.

Little thoughts ping down the line of the bond from both of Dean’s loves, that they are working in their own ways on how to best be supportive. And it means everything. Long, quiet breakfasts timed before his shifts at the garage, and books left out on the coffee table in the living room.

And Jess’ soft, relieved smile that Dean realizes means _Finally_ and _Thank you for telling us, thank you for saying something._ And oh, how it makes Dean love her.

The confusion stays, but it’s muted by the fact that Dean knows they will stay. The family will remain intact.

Dean wants to bring both of them to their main bedroom and--and--just release everything that’s being held in, but there is the simple matter of being a little bit more unsure what to do, who to be.

Well. That’s a deflating thought.

Still, there are ways that it’s possible to still follow the family scripts. Even when they’re tired or confused, they’re looking out for Dean, it’s really clear.

“Dean,” Jess asks carefully one morning, “I noticed…”

“Hm?”

“Your thoughts are different.”

“What?”

“I mean--I mean I don’t know how to explain this, um, let me get Sam.”

And she does, and he stands there tall but slouching, and Sam says, “So I’ve been researching things. And we were starting to wonder because we thought we noticed….”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t really--what do you want for a pronoun, Dean?”

“Uh.”

“Sorry--sorry to put you on the spot. We shouldn’t even be leading this conversation. It’s just we noticed, uh…”

“I don’t know,” Dean says, and flushes a little. “I, uh, don’t know how this, uh, works, I just know….”

“It happened,” Sam says, calm, like he knows exactly the feeling.

“Exactly.” Heat courses through Dean’s body, and they sway together just slightly “Sammy, I don’t know the answer but I…”

“I miss you too. Look, I’m not trying to...starve you. I just want to make sure you feel safe...when we…”

“Always feel safe with you,” Dean murmurs.

“Are you sure?”

Dean’s soft and serious now. “D’you want me to think...I mean I dunno what you want me to think....”

“You’re not broken, Dean.”

“A person needs….”

“I know.”

“Will you…?”

“Yes. Slow, okay?” Sam asks. Sam stands a little bit so that they’re shaded in their own little moment there in the living room because--

“Kiss me,” Dean breathes out, and Sam does. And it’s long-delayed fireworks, and Dean melts against him, then pushes subtly closer. “I haven’t changed that much.”

“No,” Sam whispers. “You haven’t.”

And then time is theirs alone and Dean feels safe in a body for the first time in weeks.

When the flood of sensations comes roaring through all of them, Dean is waiting, insatiable and ready for anything.


	9. I Know You've Waited Years For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome home  
> How have you been  
> I know you've never seen this place before  
> But I made it here  
> And I have been okay  
> I know you've waited years for me  
> \- The Girl & I, Welcome Home
> 
> Somehow you’ve become   
> entangled  
> in each and every fiber  
> of my brain.  
> Every passing thought  
> contains your name.  
> And everything I see  
> and hear  
> and feel  
> is you.  
> —   
> You, V.P. (via bandaids-for-the-heart)

Once Sam relents and Dean is able to be with him again, all of their built up feelings start pouring out.

“Don’t...don’t let go of me again,” Dean murmurs. “I’ve needed this.”

“Me too,” Sam says. “For years.”

“I know. For years. I know,” Dean says.

Sometimes they close away in their own corner of the bond, but often there’s nothing for them to do but let it leak out. They can feel Jessica’s reactions subtly (or not so subtly) but she leaves them behind a closed door, feeling in her bones how long overdue it all is, and what they are coming to terms with, really.

There aren’t many words between them, though their communication doesn’t have the same fluid silence that belongs to Dean and Jess. Their relationship is theirs alone, when it’s allowed to be, just as it always has been.

There’s no going back--really there never was from the day that they made the circuit. And if they are lost in each other, unsure where either begin or end, it was at least partly something that they’ve wanted and waited for.

They are hungry, and sating a feeling that has waited and waited, curled inside them. Part of each of them wondered if this would ever happen, and if they would have the all of each other they both craved. The hunger was strong enough to knock Dean’s gender sideways, the way Dean’s thoughts would meld with Sam’s and Jess’s in a way that could keep Dean slightly off balance, and maybe it would always be that way, or maybe it would settle.

It doesn’t matter much, not right now, not as much as Sam had thought it would. As long as Sam wants this then Dean wants this, and as long as Sam accepts the gender topsy turvy that has come with the bond, then Dean can find an even keel. 

The gloves are off and Dean can’t get enough. Dean simply allows for melting into Sam, and into the circuit, and it doesn’t matter then who Dean might be or what any of the answers are.


	10. As Peace Rushes In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Dean and Jess' quiet moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this took a little bit. There's a lot I could say about that, but the very short version is stuff has been happening in my meatspace, and some of that involved traveling, which takes me a while to recover from.

After work at the garage, a slow shift spent mostly not under any cars, Dean slips into the house quietly, still able to dredge up years of hunters’ memories and instincts. The next thing to do is to find Jess. It’s been too long since they’ve had time together, and Dean needs to--

One of the best things about Dean and Jess is being able to explain without words, so many things. Sam is a talker and that means when Sam is around Dean’s got to talk, to say the words.

They weren’t sure how it would go, but so far Jess has just remained--Jess. Maybe half in the world she inhabited after her death, and half here. Or at least that’s the way it feels sometimes, with the bond still active after all this time. She’s still Dean’s, though, and of course Sam’s. So Dean finds her and pulls her wordlessly into the main room, sits on the couch beside her and rests there with her. 

Dean’s head is in her lap, and then--

_You can ask me anything. Or I’ll tell you._

_What do you want to tell me, Dean?_ Jess reframes the question.

_Maybe...maybe something later. It’s been…_

_A little while, yes. But if you’ve got something to say…_

Jess leans down and Dean leans up just a little. The kiss is electric, and it means everything.

_You know how this happened---no._

Dean elects to show her, slowly, in a gentle way, the way that Dean and Jess have--how the eroding of boundaries slowly happened, never against Dean’s will, but how--having Jess in Dean’s mind had slowly changed things, one gentle push at a time--it was Jess, it had always been Jess, the pull of Jess and Sam together, that had slowly undone some things about Dean, enough things, to lead them here.

How Dean didn’t want to be some of the things from before, and how now Dean floated, as Sam had in time, somewhere nebulous, and it was the most comfortable way Dean could be now.

And how there weren’t words for it, at least not where Dean lived most of the time, not now, in this time and place. But there might be, one day, words to latch onto. 

Jess kisses Dean again and says softly, out loud, “There will be, Dean, and when you find them we’ll be right here.”

And that soft assurance is all Dean needs. Something else slotting into place. Dean’s eyes close, and peace settles over the pair of them. 

It’s the ease Dean’s always had with her making its presence known one more time. They know it may be this way for any number of reasons. There are many associations Dean doesn’t have directly with Jess, and some that Dean does, that make all the difference. Jess can say the same. And though there are certainly things that will shift and grow, right now they settle in the peace and know exactly what it means to both of them.


	11. Moving Forward

Dean, Jess and Sam stay in their home base. It’s cozy and the perfect size. Dean never thought he’d be comfortable in one place, but periodic drives out into the open expanse of America keep things on an even keel. 

Dean goes out on a limb and calls Rufus. The three of them have thought over the fact that probably nothing they tell Rufus would get back to Bobby, at least for a while.

Rufus smiles and says, gruff and sure, “Dean, of course I’d help. You think anyone else’s tried to get out of the life? I’ve known plenty of hunters gone to the other side.”

“You think it’d chase me?” Dean asks.

“Dunno, Dean, probably.” Rufus acts like he’s been waiting for this, maybe if not from Dean, from some other hunter contact. “But you might as well be yourself when it does, right?”

Dean exhales.

“I know how to get you a stash. Send someone else into the hospital for that kinda thing, but you can pick it up here, or a PO Box.”

“Thanks, Rufus. Hey. Why are you….”

“Helpin’ you? ‘Cause it’s the right thing to do, Winchester. Plus, I don’t mind getting in Bobby’s craw and stayin’ there.”

Dean is still laughing when they both click off the line. Dean’s insides are doing cartwheels.

_It worked._

Jess and Sam find Dean in their mind and send smiles of their own from opposite sides of the little house.

They find a centrally located PO Box and Dean goes to get the supplies and hormones like clockwork. Nothing changes too quickly, but the feeling of sliding all over the place lessens a bit. And Dean feels peaceful.

There’s still no word for what Dean feels, not that Dean is aware. But just the act of any of this seems to confer with it a certain level of control of the situation.

And Sam. Sam gets it more than anyone. Jess too, in her own way, though her thinking’s always been a bit more expansive since her experiences on the other side. It’s not as much of a stretch.

What benefits one benefits the three of them, bringing more stability for all.

 

They curl into a safe ball together and are awash in soft, gentle, loving thoughts and Dean registers it as each of them realize...they fit together now, even bettter than before.

San hums a soft rendition of _Listen to the Music_ and they all laugh, three voices coming together as they cuddle closer.

“Hey, Sammy, thanks for being the guinea pig,” Dean offers.

“We did figure this out quicker, didn’t we?” Sam says.

“Hell yeah, we did,” Jess says and grins. 

“Go team,” they say in unison, and then one by one they close their eyes and sink into the love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, I think, and then one more connected story, for Jess. Look out soon for The Moon Finds Her Place in the Sky. :) )


	12. Coming in to Land

Dean pads from the center of the house into the big bedroom where Sam and Jess are. Breakfast is ready, and Jess and Sam are asleep. Sure, sometimes Dean’s pretty obvious. The things that bring happiness have more or less stayed the same. It’s not like Dean’s become a domestic goddess. No. Dean still sloshes around between genders quite a lot, and nothing is particularly in-your-face or uncomfortable about any of that. It’s no more weird than Sam losing his sense of time or Jess--well--whatever’s going on with Jess, maybe they just haven’t gotten there yet.

The bottom line is, sometimes, the person it feels weirdest to is Dean.

So there’s comfort food, often, and Sam and Jess checking in about how Dean feels when they see that uncomfortable look on Dean’s face. And that’s just how it is. That’s life in the little house.

Jess wakes first, and smiles, soft and tired, up at Dean. “Hey, baby. You bringing us food?”

“Would I be myself if I wasn’t?”

Jess grins. And sighs. “No. Probably not. Is there…”

“I’m okay. I think.”

“There’s a thing.”

“Okay. Maybe a little thing. Get Sam up, willya?”

And she does.

Sam blinks up at him and says, “So there’s a thing.”

Dean sighs. “You two.”

“It’s okay, Dean. We’re okay with it. We’re used to it,” Sam says.

“I just don’t know….sometimes I don’t know...where I land.”

“What about if it’s here?” Jess asks softly. “Baby, it’s always been here.”

Dean mutters a non-answer and then adds, “Yeah.” Then, more certain, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Just….”

“It’s confusing. I know. We feel that. Right, Sam?”

“Of course. But that doesn’t mean we can’t help, Dean. We’ll figure it all out. Together.”

“We’ve gone a long way,” Dean admits. “I just…”

“And we’ll keep going,” Jess and Sam say together. 

“Even if I never figure out my...my pronouns?”

“We’ll call you...what do you want us to call you?”

“Just Dean. Or like, like Rufus, somehow he knew….”

“Winchester?”

“For now? Does that work?”

“Of course it works,” Sam says and smiles, “It’s your name. More your name than mine, anyway.”

“Ours,” Dean says, and shrugs. “I mean. It’s ours. If you still want it. Sometimes I don’t know.”

“Ours,” Sam says. “Sounds about right.”

“But you stay Sam.” 

“You got it.”

“Cool,” Dean says, and then lets out a breath, sitting down on the bed with a flop like coming to some sort of finish line. “Okay, great. Good. Yeah.”

Jess smiles and pulls Dean close to her. “Gotcha. We’ve gotcha.”

“You’re magic,” Dean says.

“I dunno about that. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Dean laughs, and it ends in the brightest smile they’ve seen in months. “Hey Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“You better eat your breakfast.”

“Dean said it, I didn’t,” Jess says.

Three grins break out and Sam leans back with a sigh. “Fine. I will.”

And so another chapter in their strange lives comes to a close, and peacefully, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Jess' arc is up next.


End file.
